Commission: Lightness & Peace (NakedCarlyArt-Carly Swenson)

I am sharing the blog post put up by our renowned artist that we have had the privilege of monopolizing on this island.  She enlisted my organizing expertise for her studio and after working together, I asked if she would trade a personal artwork piece.  And this is what she wrote, along w/posting photo's of her work in progress:
This client had an opportunity most people don’t.  Since she helped me to organize my art studio over the course of 5 hours, she was able to find and set aside bits of text, images, and ephemera that she wanted included in her custom work of art.  She is a fascinating woman with a delightful sense of humor, and while I felt I knew enough about her to create the piece (especially with her helping to pick out the visual elements), I still felt a little nervous about the work.  I am pleased with how the piece developed and the manner in which all the all her chosen elements were included into the canvas collage.  I suppose the work, much like my client herself, is a bit enigmatic, some concepts seem obvious yet hold underlying tones of contradiction to those preconceived expectations.  Other aesthetics are far more subtle, however, they still have looming significance.
To be honest, I wasn’t entirely sure if my client was going to be pleased with this work or not.  I do understand that I can’t please everyone, and my confidence in the reaction from the intended recipient of the work does vary from one piece to another.  However, I was delighted when she was more than
content with her finished work.
 

 

A Week to Build

I can't believe it's nearly 8pm.  I've said this all day long for the last 2 days.
You see, my organizing work has a little lull @ the same time that Wendi felt the need to get off this rainy, windy Island with the kids for a week.
I organized John's garage several weeks ago, rather than use his time to help me create a logo and possibly a website.  He told me on Monday night that we could work on it Tuesday when he got home from work.  We went over everything that should be on it and agreed that it would be a good idea to get some of the info prepped beforehand.
So Tuesday, I spent the day on the outside Terrace with my computer - writing my bio, an Organizing terminology list and getting all of my Before/After photo's labeled and in order.
We spend about 3 hours on Tuesday night and then it was up to me to create the rest.  I worked on it again most of Wednesday.  Mianna came for dinner as usual that night and took the first critical look @ it.  Some of the changes, I was able to do quickly as we chatted waiting for John's steak fajitas for dinner.  Other tweaking was included in my list for Thursday.  Both Thursday and Friday went something like this:

Wake up 10A.  10-10:30A Coffee.  Brush Teeth.  Open up website work space.  Focused work, then "hmmmm - I'm hungry."  Look @ watch, "What? It's 2:30P!  How did that happen?"  Made myself eggs on toast.  Take shower.  Get dressed.  Back to web-site work site.  Focus.  Again, "Hmmm, I'm hungry again?"  Look @ watch, "What?  It's 5:30!  How did that happen?"
Last night - I kept @ it and made a new list of what I had to post and what I had to link, etc. etc.
Tonight - I went until 7P and just can't look @ it anymore.  I'm so close.  Just 5 more posts, but then a whole lot of writing to add into posts I just threw up to link to my Solutions page.  I have another day or 2 and it should be good to go.

I have about 30 hours in and to polish it maybe 20 more.  Then, it's maintenance.  But alas, it is full enough to get the word going back in the States.  Such perfect timing this week was.  I have been very busy with Organizing work through last Sunday • my boys are coming next week • Joni arrives just as they leave, for a week • then, 3 weeks later, I am headed back to the USA.

Hangin' w/Scrubs @ the Compound

It's Monday and I am enjoying a semi-relaxing day off, having just wrapped up a big organizing job for another Military family yesterday.  42 hours over the course 4 days, we completed an entire 3.5 bedroom house: 7 closets, a large walk-in storage space, garage, Kitchen, Dining and Living room from basically, the movers having unpacked their stuff...to the finishing touches of hanging artwork and decor.  My legs are so sore, I'm skipping the chance to take Scrubs for an ocean front walk on a beautiful weather day, in hopes that tomorrow we'll have some good weather and I'll make it up to him...and myself!
Wendi had thrown a 'Meet The New Baby' party for her friend who lives in the same village of Porto Martins off base on Saturday evening.  I'd kissed the kids goodbye by 8:30A and returned home by 9:30P.  The Baby party guests were gone and I was surprised to go upstairs to see Wendi wide awake and smiling!....only because the latest I've seen her awake @ night in months is maybe 8P.  She proceeded to tell me she'd had a virtually no-nausea day and decided to take the kids on the (free) Rotator to Baltimore the next morning...for a week.  The thing about taking the Rotator aircraft is that you put your name in, pack up for your big trip, then go to the base airport, just hoping they call your name.  If they don't, you go back home with no trip to be had.  I was so proud of her for making such a spontaneous decision and the wherewithal to take that gamble with the 3 kids.
So, on Sunday morning, once again, I kissed the kids goodbye and headed off to organize for the day, as the family headed off to the base airport.  I wouldn't know until my return, if they got on.
I pulled into the compound @ 7:30P, to a very relaxed John putzing with all of his brewery bottles and what-not in the kitchen.  He said they got the last 4 seats on the Rotator and that they should be landing in Baltimore any minute.  They're spending the week with a close friend who lives in DC.  If they miss the return Rotator this Saturday (5/4), they will go for the next one running on the following Saturday (5/11).  My boys are due to arrive here on Thursday, May 8th.  Wendi is so sweet - she asked if it was really important to me that she be here when the boys arrive....or might it be nice for them to have their 1st 3nights/2days here with just their mom and meeting their cousin-in-law for the first time since they were 5 & 2 - then, meet Wendi and the 3 kids ages 5 and under.  Funny.  Either way is great with me, but I told her not to worry @ all, if she misses the 5/4 Rotator.
So...just last week, I got some photo's of what a normal day @ the compound looks like:

The boys are always donned one of many costumes:  Buzz Light Year / Spider Man / Super Man or Bat Man - playing with Lego's, Magnatiles, Cars, building Train Tracks, Reading or Coloring.

Abigail, joins in all of these play time events, but so far loathes wearing a costume of any sort.

 

Magnatiles - the best kids invention of the century!

While Isaac can spend long periods of time silently building or coloring, he often likes his younger brothers accompaniment to direct the imaginative play-time of such play-time.

....and whether or not Sidge plays alone or accompanies his older brother or younger sister - he LOVES to talk about it, and anything else that springs to his mind.  Often, he will sit a minute and describe in great detail what he is doing and why....or what he is thinking about and why.  Whatever he says, it is always with great fervor and hand motions.






Anyway, today was sleeping in late and getting caught up on emails.  I did work from about 12N-3:30P, getting the household laundry caught up on, the  house straightened up, dishes, sweeping, taking away trash and recycles, cleaning out the van, stocking up the Tupperware cereal containers and the Ibuprofen bottle and at least tossing the frisbie for Scrubs.  I enjoyed good left-overs from the party for lunch and even read out on the Terrace for a bit in the sun.  John came home from work @ the regular time, cooked up something fabulous to put over a salad as we went over options for creating a web-site for my Organizing business and ideas for a flyer to introduce myself to a new region in the USA.  The game plan is to work on it tomorrow night and Mianna will come for dinner Wednesday night of which I will use to belabor her with the job of first consumer critique.  Wendi skyped with us and it was fun to see Abigail so enamored with seeing us and seeing herself on the screen, as well as seeing Sidge napping and we all woke him up.
After that, John, being as big a movie buff as I am, invited me to join him to start watching of a quirky movie called Safety Not Guaranteed.   We ended up watching the whole thing.  What a wonderful surprise of a movie.  It. was. BRILLIANT!  Loved it.  I already want to watch it again.
I've got a lot of work to do tomorrow, in order to make John's job of helping get my website created to be as short and easy as possible.  So grateful he's taking the time and I thoroughly trust his ideas with his Graphic Designer background.  I should be up and running soon!
These are photo's of what today was @ the compound:

It was a good day off and I am praying that the weather just is done with all of the rain and incessant winds @ least for a few days!

Organizing for Overseas Military

I arrived at the end of September, and by November, word had spread that there was a Professional Organizer on base.  Hence, I have been inundated with work to date, and while the basics are similar, working inside a military community has offered new challenges to me, as a professional, thereby growth.  I love a good challenge and love to broaden my knowledge.
All of the base housing is the same inside.  This helps expedite the process, because I already know how to maneuver through each house, it’s just different stuff to organize.  As well, the system of their moves is the same.  They send all of their belongings in two shipments, the first is their clothing, personals and must-have daily items.  The second shipment is their furniture and bulk household.  Most of the calls I receive go something like this, “I PCS’d here two months ago and we just got our household goods this week. We are still trying to make sense of it all...I would really like your help.  I am warning you, you will have your hands full!”  Normally, my system is to work with the client, using the process as a teaching tool for their future endeavors and moves; however, this is the first time in many years that I have accepted jobs wherein the client has handed over their keys and booked my days to organize their home, while they are on duty.

This photo is typical in their process - the movers unpack everything for them.  They just arrived and have to start their new job on Monday morning!  For this particular client, she had been here a few weeks and was completely overwhelmed.  We met, she handed me her keys and ventured off for a long weekend in Sao Miguel, and.....

...came home to this!

 Having repeat clients hire me to help decorate, is also something new that has become commonplace here.  Those calls go something like this, “I just feel like I’m in a big hotel room.  All of my stuff is here, and put away, but it just feels so cold.”  Upon my return, I find their wall decor still sitting along the baseboards in each room.  They work full time and each weekend comes and goes with wanting to get things hung and arranged, but they’re tired from the week, as well as trying to acclimate to a new base, and new people, that spending their weekend on task at home feels overwhelming.  Although I have been coaching them along the way, to just hang one piece each weekend, it doesn’t get done, so they just invite me back for a day.  Together, we transform these cold houses into their homes, in a full day, but in entirety of up to 10 rooms.  We learn two things:  First, the desire to get it done hadn’t waned, but motivation only lasts in thirty minute increments.  It gets done because they trust that I understand their “how” and were comfortable letting me go at it.  The client I worked with in this way this past weekend, defined for me the process of this particular client-style.  Toward the end, she smiled and said, “I’m going to go to my bedroom and close the door for a bit.  I may feel to you that I am trying to get away from your constant movement.  While that would be an accurate assessment, it’s meant with great appreciation for everything you’re doing to transform this house into my home.”  We also found that we were equally happy to have booked my first round to work alone.  She was not a process person, but trusted that I understood her lifestyle and aesthetic, loved the results vs. my love for every bit of the process and the results.

My very wits - in Morocco

Well then, I have taken that 4 day weekend round trip weekend to Morocco to get my Visa stamped, extending my stay in Portugal until June 17th!
The night prior to leaving, Wendi asked if I was nervous.  I said, "No! I'm excited!"  John said, "You should be at least a little nervous."  When I drove a friend to her base home from dinner with us, she said, "If you find yourself having a panic attack @ any point..."  I said, "a panic attack?!"  She continued, "If you find yourself having a panic attack, tell yourself that you are having one in MOROCCO!"  What in the world did I have to be nervous about?  It had been raining nearly non-stop all month and with emailing Jon-Jack @ the hostel-house in Morocco, he sent this photo!

When I arrived and found my way up to the 3rd floor outdoor terrace the next morning - what it really looked like was this:

So, let me back track some.  Like I said, it had been raining on Terceira Island nearly non-stop for a month.  Wendi has been very ill in her 1st trimester of pregnancy since December 30th.  I was very anxious for a change of scenery, of people, any change, anywhere else!  I was just coming off a month long pet-sitting job and had to get the owners car back to the airport.  So I left Porto Martins @ 8:15A, to leave his car and check-in for my 10:30A flight....in terrible winds and rain.  I had showered and fixed my hair, only to be drenched by the time I entered the airport.  I checked in, treated myself to a Galoa (Portuguese latte) and waited.  Later, flying above the clouds toward Lisbon, there was the sun and I felt my whole spirit inside lift.  Easy transition @ Lisbon airport to await my flight to Morocco.  I found a new pair of sunglasses and didn't even get nervous when I realized that flight would be on a 20-seater aircraft.  It was dark when we landed, but I had watched the sunset from above the clouds:

after waiting in line @ customs for 15 minutes only to be sent back to fill out a customs form and waiting another 15 minutes, my passport was stamped and off I went to see my name on a card by a driver sent from the hostel to pick me up.  There he was and I followed him for another 15 minutes through a large parking lot.  I was thinking small SUV, but he was a gentleman and opened my passenger door, motioning for me to get in to a very old, small, squeeling-noised Mercedes:

He said, "English, not good." to which I responded, "Moi? French not good."  I asked, "how long to hotel?"  He said, "10!"  I asked, "10 minutes?"  "No," he answered, "1 hour."  So, I settled back and rode in the small backseat for 1hour and 30 minutes.  No problem....until we entered a city that reminded me of a seedy neighborhood in the heart of Chicago, but with vendors in robes and head covering selling their wares and people and traffic bustling about.  The driver said, "City Azemmour"  He slowed, pointed and said, "Through there."  I looked and all I saw was an archway inset a very highwalled...uhm....area.  He must've sensed my growing fear and proceeded to park and walk me through what my only reference would be very twisting turning alleyways inside this very high-walled area.  I kept my wits about me to pay attention that we were staying to the right the entire walk, until we stopped just before a dead-end left right and forward, and he knocked.  A young adult girl opened the door, "Aloooo, so sorry, my English...very little."  I paid the driver and she showed me to my room asking if I remembered which room as she was opening the door to a room.  This is the photo I was sent when making the reservation:

 

but alas, this is the room I was entering:

 The photo I was sent for dinner was this:

 

 however, there were only Egyptian looking women and this is what I was served:

After a 12 hour day of travel, I gobbled up my very delicious dinner, washed down with a small bottle of excellent red wine and slept like a baby.
My hosts name was Rachida and in her very broken English, she told me there was no English speaking person to take me around, but that I was safe, as an American woman alone, to walk out into The Old Medina, but that I should walk to the bank just outside the city to transfer my Euro into Dirham if I wanted to shop.  She gave me a key to the main door of the house.  At least that's what I understood.  So...showered and changed, out I went.  Here are some photo's of finding my way from the hostel-house to the Medina:

Being the only American and finding the majority of people walking around in robes with head-covering, seeing bums asleep in the small parkway, the more I walked, the less comfortable I became, so I snapped away, but only lasted about 40 minutes before I was headed back through those alleyways to my hostel-house.  I found it easily and as I turned the key, I heard the lock opening and closing, however, the door would not open.  I rang the bell...I rang the bell gain...I rang the bell again.  I sat down on the stoop.  After the 3rd time the same group of children and a lady robed and head-covered passed me speaking something in French, admittedly I laid on that bell.  Still I waited, so I took my camera out to project that I was sitting there on purpose.

Finally, after about 20 minutes, the door opened - it was the maid, Miriam who let me in.  Okay then!  Much better.  I went to my room to read and take a short nap.  When I awoke, the house was silent...for the next 6 hours, the house was silent.  I opened my computer, only to find any internet access unavailable.  When I started smelling smoke, my heart began to race.  Finally about 6:30P, I heard women's voices.  I maintained my composure by not running down those stairs to find them.  There were 2 women fully robed w/head covering.  They chattered away to each other and just smiled @ me.  I had my book with me, called 'One Thousand Gifts' about living a life of gratitude.  When I asked after Rachida, though she spoke an entire sentence in French, all I heard was "No Rachida".  Now, I did not know if that meant she was just not there tonight or never coming back.  After the last 6 hours of deep breathing and talking myself out of hailing a taxi back to the airport to find a Hampton Inn or just live @ the airport until my flight home on Sunday afternoon, I was determined to just read my book....but I couldn't retain anything I was reading.  No internet access, no idea what to dial if I tried to use the phone and had no idea if or where I might find someone who spoke good English.  So, when I found my day culminating with this news, I felt tears sting my eyes and just put my head down to my open book.  And this is what I read:
“I have lived the runner, panting ahead in worry, pounding back regrets, terrified to live in the present, because here, time asks me to do the hardest of all:  just open wide and receive.
This is where God is.  In the present.
The ‘I Am’ - His very name.
It’s not the gifts that fulfill, but the holiness of the space.  The God in it.  Far curvature of time, God Himself framed in moment.
I am Jacob and the Lord is in this place and I was not aware of it (Genesis 28:16).  And it is...an architecture of holiness -- a place for God.  I will not desecrate this moment with ignorant (fear) or social ingratitude.  I will be Jacob, and I will name this moment the “house of God” (Genesis 28:19).
The clock ticks slow.  (The Arabic women speak to each other).  True, this full attention slows time and I live the full of the moment, right to outer edges.  But there’s more.  I awake to the ‘I Am’ here.  When I’m present, I meet ‘I Am’, the very presence of a present God.  In His embrace, time loses all sense of nothingness and fear and stands so still and holy.
Here is the only place I can love Him.  Here is the only place I have time for God...
I hunger to taste life.
God.
Why is gratitude the answer to the time starved and soul famished?  Like the God-Man, counting His too-few loves and not-enough fishes.  The one I remember from felt boards and figures pressed out smooth, where “Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted”  (John 6:11 NIV)
Gave thanks.  He’d done it there too?  Again?  I’d missed it and all of my life?”

On Friday, 3/15/13...i wrote, “I prayed - angry that I found myself in a hard place again, rather than to be surprised by simple goodness let alone joy.  I was ready to give up all hope, it seemed to me that brightness, goodness and joy were not part of my path and I was grappling with a decision to just give up, close my hearts door to hope - because hope after hope dashed is just too hard.  But, then "NO!" I wrote, ‘No! I will seek after joy always.  I will never give up on my God!  That He is a good God!” and then I read this:  (Psalm 27:8 ESV) “My heart says to you, ‘Your face, Lord, do I seek’”, but I’m desperate to grab someone, anyone to shake hard, “How do I have the holy vision in this mess?  How do I see grace, give thanks, find joy in this stinking place?” - and God tries to gently drive the words of Caussade from the knowing of my head to the bleeding of my heart:

    You would be very ashamed if you knew what the experiences you call setbacks, upheavals, pointless disturbances and tedious annoyances really are.  You would realize that your complaints about them are nothing more nor less than blasphemies--though that never occurs to you.  Nothing happens to you except by the will of God, and yet [God’s] beloved children curse it because they do not know it for what it is.

And i think, “what compels me to name these moments upheaval and annoyances instead of grace and gift?  Why desprive myself of joy’s oxygen?”  because I believe in the power of the pit.  Really?  Do I really smother my own joy because I believe that anger achieves more than love?  When I choose--and it is a choice--to crush joy with bitterness, am I not purposefully choosing to take the way of the Prince of Darkness?  Blasphemer.  Senses are impaired if they don’t sense the Spirit and somebody, tell me, how do I tear open tear-swollen eyelids to see through this for what it really is?
How did Jesus do it again?  He turned His eyes, “And looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves.  Then He gave...” (Matthew 14:19 NIV)  He looked up to heaven, to see where this moment comes from.  Contemplative simplicity isn’t a matter of circumstances, it’s a matter of focus.

....and instantly my heart racing returned to a normal, steady pace, my tears dried, I was no longer gulping for air and w/goosebumps, I felt the hand of God close around mine.  15 minutes later, Rachida came in, “Aloooo, so sorry, I had trouble with my car for insurance.”   Have you ever felt yourself exhale when you didn’t realize you were even holding your breath?  Over dessert, I felt tears spring back into my eyes when I asked her if she had to leave tomorrow, if she would please tell me, then tell me when she would return.  Unsure if she had understood most of what I’d said, she assured me that she would be there the remainder of my time there.  Dinner looked wonderful, but what little I could eat of it, I did not taste.  My beverage of choice was water.
I awoke Saturday morning, had my breakfast and drank 1/2 of the coffee I’d had the day before.  I decided my quest for the day was to finish my book, just be in my pj’s all day and enjoy the 3rd floor terrace, until my 5P massage, manicure and pedicure.  From the little English speaking exchange, I wasn't sure if that would really happen or if so, what might a full body massage, manicure and pedicure be like in a 3rd world country?  I decided to just go for it anyway.
It proved to be a warm, sunny day on that rooftop for me and though I'd showered and dressed, that was the extent of my personal care and I finished my book with pen in hand, dozed and read all day.  I took solace in hearing all of the noises of this place, the 5x's per day call to prayer over a loud speaker, within the safety of these walls.  Rachida left and returned @ some point only a couple of hours, but today, I just didn't care.  I had crossed a line by reading this wonderful book, written with such transparency and truth....and realized how interesting that THIS is the book I'd chosen to bring on this trip.  When I finally attained internet access, I responded to my nieces message, "How's it going?" with a very softened version of what I'd been through the day prior.  She responded, "Wow.  Proud of you!  Have a great time!", which was good to know they weren't freaking out and telling me to call a taxi and get to a hotel near the airport.  My missionary sister who has a greater understanding of Eastern culture gave me some insight, but also wrote, "Maybe Ed & I could help with the cost (Ed who was currently traveling through Indonesia @ this very time), but you should get out of there and find a hotel near the airport!"  And I smiled to myself, how much I needed both of those responses.
So, 5pm rolled around and I was led into a small cozy spa-like room where Miriam stood to take my discarded clothing and I laid on a heated spa bed.  The massage was wonderful and kind of funny.  Strong hands from this petite woman who was also the maid and the cook, did them all.  And I remained lying suppine for the the duration of the pedicure and manicure!  After which I enjoyed a wonderful fish (face, eyeballs, tail w/lots of bones but VERY good)  dinner and a bottle of red wine.  I had pre-packed, so slept well and woke easily by 6A my time (7A there).  Same breakfast.  A little more coffee, but cut w/good creme and the taxi driver came promptly @ 9A.  It was better to see in daylight the entire drive to Casablanca!  He drove me through many streets of Casablanca and to the Mosque and walked around w/me there.  I was unimpressed with Casablanca entirely other than the Mosque.  It was a dirty city with lots of litter.  I thought back to the photo we'd gotten and wondered where that view could possibly be.  I loved how my taxi driver knew to walk around with me the entirety of the Mosque. (the Mosque did not open until 12N, but I had to be back to the Marakesh airport by 12:30P, so I was grateful it was a warm, sunny day).  We broke through our language barrier enough for me to learn that he was married with 3 children, 12 yr old boy and 10 & 7 year old girls.  He got me to the airport by 11A, shook my hand and bid me bonjour.  I enjoyed a Galoa and started the hunt of where to check in, etc.  It was a very crowded, small airport with unfriendly, bordering on rude, staff.  I finally found my way and waited the long 2 & 1/2 hours for my flight; got a small thin pizza w/Orange Fanta and grabbed a couple of chochki’s @ the gift shop.  Can’t even describe the relief to land @ Lisbon airport!  My breathing was easy, I had another 2 hours to browse around, treated myself to a Galoa and a fruit cup.  Landed in Terceira Island Portugal@ exactly 7:40P and Wendi & Carla were there to meet me!  Oiey!  It was chilly and rainy :( and who would have thunk it 6 months ago that I would be so relieved to be on Portuguese land!  This was an experience of a life-time.  I do not regret it.  I learned some things about myself and about God and my belief in and relationship with Him that I would not have otherwise known.  I learned some very key, "will and will not's" as I make decisions about my future.  For instance, as I look @ my term here drawing to an end in 4 months, prior to this trip, I might have signed up for missions work in a 3rd world country alone.  Now? Not a chance.  I still want to travel the world, but after the trip to Morocco?  I  will happily start with good old USofA and anything overseas, won't consider doing by myself.  After some good-hearted laughter about this trip w/people who have been to 3rd world countries - I did hear some compassion as their travels were with a group or a church.  They were not a female alone in a Muslim country without an English speaking guide.  I am proud of myself that I took the chance to leave the hostel-house and walk to the Medina and I have forgiven myself for not going back out to barter in the Marketplace there alone.  Even in hindsight, I would not ask myself to do that.  And the best thing of all, I learned that there is something profound, to this thing of living in the present:  to do the hardest of all:  just open wide and receive.

Letting my Hair Grow

Haven't gotten a photo of myself with my new color, but as I watched all of the Bourne movies prompted by my nephew-in-law John, I was as much interested in Julia Stiles hair in Supremacy as I was in the movie itself.  It must've been my fashion moment in lieu of missing the Oscars this year - which is my Superbowl Sunday.  Anyway, my hair is not quite as long yet, but this is the photo I went in with and happily very close to the color I left the Salon with: dark with random highlights.

 

In my mind, I look like a little like her anyway - ha!  I'm thinking my hair will be this long in a few months.

Additionally, I've lost 20#'s since I arrived here, mostly due to the change to a very healthy eating lifestyle.  The physical work of Organizing jobs, often with many stairs, the dog walks and the 33 stairs from my room to the 1st floor however many times a day where I live has probably helped as well.  I have a few other goals to meet in my year here, but it feels good to be on my way!

My Meltdown / My own people

It is a funny place to be, this SWF making new friends.  I had a meltdown a few weeks ago.  I was homesick.  It came upon me suddenly.  I couldn't speak about my boys or my dog without tears coming up.  I am here as a helpmate to my niece and her husband.  I've taken a year long Sabbatical from the every day, mundane life in Petoskey, Michigan.  The genesis, in communicating with my niece, who I hadn't seen in 15 years...(she was then just dating John, now her husband for 15 years and father of her 3 children and one on the way), was basically, "You need an adventure and we need help!"  The details were pretty much logistics.  They had 3 young children and would love my work with them to be keeping the house in order, staying on top of dishes and laundry - both of which seem never-ending at times :)!  We clarified that I was not here to be a Nanny, other than an extra set of eyes, ears and hands for the little ones.  I arrived on September 24th, 2012, with the premise that John's parents would be coming to live here, but J&W needed my interim help until their arrival - anywhere from March to September.  We attained a 90 day extension in December that expires on March 23rd.  The original logistics were that at the 6 month mark, if John's parents hadn't yet arrived, they'd need to send me out of the country (and, as it turns out, out of the EU-European Unit) to re-enter for another 90 days.  If John's parents still haven't arrived by June-end, we would file another 90 day extension, the end of which I would have to leave.
Wendi told me that she very rarely ever got sick...couldn't remember the last time she had vomited, etc.  I dove right in and adjusted to the extreme change in lifestyle:  I had raised my children, and was maintaining my Professional Organizing business part-time, while working as an Ad Assistant @ the local newspaper, coming home to my quiet house, with my quiet dog and my quiet 18 year old son.  I'd take long walks along the beach, hike the woods, take early morning exercise walks in the Winter snows of Petoskey and hoped my roof and 99 Jeep Cherokee would last another year.  I was a home-owner, a mother and dog-owner.  I loved finding ways to decorate my house, mixing modern with antique aesthetics via consignment and cheap antique shops in my area and Grand Rapids.  My eldest was beginning his Sophomore year @ Kendall School of Art & Design,  Colin and I were grieving the end of our era with the Petoskey Marching Band.  I had been a single mother for 7 years, having successfully dealt with a 14 month fight from foreclosure, having to take horrid part-time jobs for supplemental income after the economic crash, a couple of surgeries for Colin @ UofM, a carbon monoxide leak and old furnace dying....in one December, the week b4 Christmas.  I had kept my riding lawn mower going, tended my own flower gardens and kept a pretty yard on 3/4 acre of my own property.  I had a cat for mousing and saved up to keep that old Jeep chugging along.  And by February 2013, I find myself living in a 3rd floor "apartment" with low ceilings and low closets, and being careful not to get up too fast when using the loo, so as not to bump my head; keeping Damp Rid buckets filled due to the incessant humidity, taking a shower 2 floors down, doing other peoples laundry and dishes, living near a small military base where the average age is 35 young marrieds with small children.  I have no home of my own to decorate or clean, no yard to maintain, no groceries to buy, no sons to mother, no dog to master.  My niece has been ill with migraines, Oct.-Nov., then insomnia/anxiety/ depression/panic attacks Nov. to early January; she took a 3 day trip to Germany for a special ultrasound in late November, meaning I successfully took care of the 3 children full time for 3 days until John came home from work.  
I found their 3 week trip December trip to the US to be a very good break for me - just to pause a moment, catch my breath per se from a drastic lifestyle change in 3 months.  I felt like I was adjusting well and I had no complaints, but it felt good to have a lot of my own space again, feed myself and the dog, do my own dishes, my own laundry, get to know Carla on my own better and clean up after my own self for a couple of weeks.  I was just as happy to welcome them home on December 30th.
Wendi had been struggling with insomnia/anxiety/depression prior to their trip, but triggered by a terrible jet lag from an overnight lay-over on their way home, within a week, her condition deteriorated drastically.  Then, just 2 weeks later, we found out why!, that her IVF transfer had been successful and she was pregnant with baby #4.  This was great news, but what came with it, and since the beginning of January, has been very severe nausea with her now 11 week pregnancy.  I have been both weary and inspired as I walk alongside her daily struggle during this time.  In my personal world, I was beginning to feel the strain of having nobody over the age of 45 to have a conversation with; gaining acquaintances only through Wendi's activities, surrounded by young children and wonderful girls, but all Wendi's people.  I missed MY people, MY home, MY dishes, MY dog, MY yard, MY cat, MY children, MY car, MY lawn mower, MY bed, MY bathroom....When my niece came up one day with the first light I'd seen in her eyes in a month, telling me they'd found a way not to send me out of the country to extend my visa through @ least June, maybe even to September, I felt a very odd sensation that I was watching her lips move, seeing a rare light in her eyes, but couldn't hear more than something that sounded like the teacher in Charlie Brown cartoons.
I am very flexible and I have found John and Wendi to be the same.  This is the perfect situation and I couldn't imagine living so well with ANYone else.  I had a great schedule, averaging, for the most part 1-7p, 5 days a week.  While no money changes hands, my living, eating and transportation is taken care of while I give 30-45 hours a week to their needs. As well, beginning in November, I had successfully cultivated a steady stream of Professional Organizing and Pet Sitting work of my own.  Besides loving the work, it has garnered my ability to save almost enough money to fly my boys here for a visit during Casey's college Spring break to look forward to.  In the midst of my bout with homesickness and CareGiver burnout, while painful, gifted me with the voice and the wherewithal to merge being a family's helpmate without losing myself in that process.  To not let the fact of being sensitive to Wendi's various forms of illness, stop me from finding my own value just as important.  I found a woman in her early 60's to confidentially bounce things off of as part of the support for military families offered on base.  I realized that I had made a decision 5 months ago - I needed to find a way to keep a strong sense of myself, while working within the parameters of someone else's life, and that any other needs I had of my own simply needed to be set aside for this time.  I did not realize that I needed my own people and my own life within a much smaller scope of a lifestyle.  I realized that I had, in fact, developed my own business here; I had, in fact cultivated my own relationships.  And it is not something I need to feel guilty about that I need to relate to adults outside of small children, but rather quite normal as I am at a very different place in my life, and none is better than the other, just different.  Just like my surroundings, I find this Island to be every bit AS beautiful as Petoskey, MI, just different.  I don't think it's more beautiful here or there - rather different kinds of beautiful.  I realized that as much as I needed the break in December, I needed that break in March.  This says nothing against the wonderful and fun family with whom I live, rather that though they are my family, we are separate and we are @ different places in life.  Just as they have each other to make wise decisions, I need people in my own age bracket and life experiences by which to make wise decisions for my life.   I am grateful that we have maintained both the commitment and the maturity to communicate openly and realistically - that my need to take care of myself and get away by myself every 3 months or so has nothing @ all to do with them.  I found myself so conflicted because nothing was wrong and it has been my privilege to walk alongside this family during the most vulnerable, difficult time in their lives as individuals, marriage and family (self proclaimed).  Their trust has humbled me and even in the week when all 6 of us sat in puke and diarrhea in a bout with a 48 hour flu, each of us in staggered stages, I said with sincerity, "...there's no place (other than w/my boys) I would rather be, or with whom I'd rather be."  I call Wendi a brave soldier, Godly wife and mother; John, such a demonstration of what a Godly man, father and husband looks like and through the muck of Wendi's illness' and maybe because of them, have fallen hook, line and sinker in love with these 3 children.  And then there's Scrubby, my 80# Dalmation companion, that is the frosting on the cake of this family. At the same time, I felt like I was scrambling to keep ME.
I spoke w/John & Wendi about the very real necessity for the trip out of the EU in March, as opposed to using the loop hole - that the day-to-day reality was very different than our initial agreement of, "You need an adventure and we need help!", thereby clarifying the initial agreement.  And, the humor throughout has never faltered.  While Wendi's brain was switching gears, John retorted, "Look Wendi, the deal was, to get Aunt Connie here, suck the life out of her for a year and send her home."  Initially, it was stated that I would have no other choice, but to leave altogether after a year.  But, 5 months later, Wendi has no memory of where that information came from and they were curious if I would consider returning after the baby is born.  They weren't officially asking me, but having no solid commitment from his parents and coinciding with the culmination of my year commitment here, they needed to know their options.  I knew for certain, that I would not, for 2 reasons: #1-Upon the arrival of baby #4, the helpmate role would change to a Nanny position and though I love the 3 children here, I am more comfortable with the current arrangement as house-help, on-call babysitter and assisting w/the kids.  #2-I know for sure, I don't want to be so far from my sons for longer than 1 year.   Since that conversation, John's parents have  committed to coming in August or September 2013 and my trip is booked for Morocco from March 21st - 24th.  And we are all excited for them and me!  Below is what I look forward to:  a driver from the hostel-like hotel will pick me up @ the airport, holding up a sign. 

They will have a dinner waiting for me, that could look something like this.

My view will be something like this

and my room should be exactly like this!

Additionally, I take Scrubby, averaging every other day (weather permitting) for walks along the ocean front nearby; I am currently residing back @ the little European cottage around the corner from Kitsteiners (from 2/13-3/10), so it feels like I have my own digs and transport - a little independence.  The lady of this house has given birth in the states to a 9# baby boy.  Per their instruction, the 5 chickens and the Canary have been given to good homes (the duck, without a pond escaped long ago) and I am taking good care of their home and dogs until their return.  I have the weekends to myself and my own social life to cultivate, spending an average of 30-35 hours helping the Kitsteiners, which is a short walk away.  Last weekend I had completed 32 hours there from Monday to Thursday.  I had a 6 hour Organizing job on Friday.  It was a rainy, windy day, so my Friday culminated with a BLT for dinner, a roaring fire and a great movie.  On Saturday, I had an Organizing consult on base and the same client asked me to take care of her Pug, while she took a weekend jaunt to a nearby island.  So, I went back and forth between that base pet-sitting job to this one in Porto Martins, as well as got her house Organization project completed by the time she walked in the door on Monday afternoon.  John had Presidents Day/Monday off, therefore gave me the day off there, feeling good about using my hours T-F with Wendi and the kids.  I had a great week with Wendi & the kids - I think the kids love me as much as I do them...I'm pretty sure :).  We were busy with Library Story hour, grocery shopping, going to the BX and post office, MOPS and a beautiful weather day Friday where Wendi invited 3 friends over with their kids (10 kids ages 5 and under) who were graced with the big yard to play in all day and Wendi had 3 days with significant windows of no-nausea.  Admittedly, I was pooped by Friday, looking forward to a weekend where I was really OFF.  Yesterday, I stopped in @ a friends Pampered Chef party as her welcome to the Island gathering on base, then met up with 6 others to attend an Art Exhibit in Angra (the biggest city of the Island) @ the Angra Museum.  Here are some photo's from last night.  Carla and Wendi came by after the museum and dinner event, along with Lindsey, Adrianne and Etleva, for a PJ clad evening of a chick flick, roaring fire and wine.  4 of us walked over to the Ocean @ 1:30A, just because we could

As has been a common theme in my life's journey, I will remember this, as gifts gleaned through discomfort.  See, what I didn't even know I'd forgotten was that I matter.  Back home, my boys and Bleu were what mattered.  Finding myself on an Island with young marrieds with their young children or young single gals in a successful military position, THEY matter - this near 50 year old nobody can't possibly compare.  But in my confusing, conflicting emotions,  I see that God allowed it, to show me that I do matter and I have value.  I know that the Kitsteiner's value my role and have grown to care about me personally; I know that the pet owners feel blessed to have me available to care for their pets in a more personal way and yes, that just because these new girls are much younger than me, doesn't mean we can't have a real friendship.  
Decisions that I could not have known prior, have been made.  Things I know now, that I could not have otherwise known.  That if you stay open, time teaches and heals and that the people you meet along the way are our great teachers.  That letting go of people and things can be more scary and difficult than I realized, every bit as much, more freeing and open than I could have imagined.  It brings with it a much deeper understanding to my work as much as to my life.  I wonder @ times how hard it must be for Wendi, being the woman of this house, realizing the power that has gets taken over by someone else, albeit necessary.   She's just trying to feel better, to engage with her children, be a good wife, maintain her own friendships, yet in her suffering has lost a lot of power that comes with her role as the woman of the household - I'm not sure it's something she considered in the equation asking for help, but has admitted to me, is hard.
So, here I am on a quiet Sunday, in this quiet house of someone else's dogs, I sit watching the derelict waves of the ocean on a windy, humid, grey day (general Winter weather on Terceira Island) just @ rest.  Happy it's not raining again, happy I have my laundry done and no other responsibilities.  Happy to clean up from last night's fun with the girls.  And, best of all, maybe I'll get in a chat with Casey tonight.
Beyond this, Joanie (Isaac's biological grandma) has booked her tickets for 10 days with us in April, arriving just the same day of John's return from a 4 day training in Texas.  My boys will be coming here for 7-10 days in early May - yes BOTH of them!   Then George & Diane - my eldest sister/Wendi's mom & dad, will coming for a visit in June.  Wendi's baby is due mid September for which she will be going to Germany to deliver.  I don't understand it all, but from what I do understand, she will go to Germany to stork-nest with the 3 kids with either my help or John's folks' help.  John will join them closer to the birth and then they await the new baby's passport, before their return to Terceira Island with their new helpmates x2 - Grandpa & Grandma Kitsteiner!  
As for me, I only know for certain that I will leave for good, either from here or from Germany to the USA.  I don't know how or where or anything that goes along with it - I just know that I need some time with my sons and my Bleu.  Only God knows where I will live or how I will get around.   I'm not concerned.  I am coming more and more from a foundation of gratitude and knowing that trusting, also requires participation.  Maybe that is one of the lessons I am here to have learned, along with, @ this stage of my life, learning my value.  Seeing the teachers from my past and present, noticing the truer value in things like, enjoyment, fulfillment, how integral to my being is regular laughter, and living the processes from one end to another strengthens my resolve toward bright hope for my future.  And along the way, I have some great gifts that I did not have just 5 months ago - things like a healthy extended family;  like knowing new friends that I will now know the rest of my life and some probably see again.  Things that once mattered a great deal to me, just don't anymore - I used to care about what vehicle I drove, now I'm just happy to drive!  I used to care about what my house and room looked like - now I'm just happy to have a place to live.  And there also remain the idiosyncratic things about myself, that if I ever do have a kitchen of my own again, it will be an open kitchen void of a center table or island.  And I know for sure that, though it can be disconcerting to, like these military families, have no control where you live, I am more adaptable than I thought I was.  That: